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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23862337">Imagine</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hurricos/pseuds/Hurricos'>Hurricos</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Emotional Machine [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Cocktails !!!, Detroit: become soft asf, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hank still being the BEST wingman, Soft hours again, Some Swearing, connor and the reader finally have a few proper UWU moments, emotions n stuff, pre-deviant/deviant connor, slowburn, soft, sumo is in this part too</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 22:34:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,728</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23862337</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hurricos/pseuds/Hurricos</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The final part in this selfish fluff series.</p><p>Feelings rise, and with the previous series of events that have occurred between Connor and yourself - it’s only a matter of time before oppressed emotions will run high.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Connor (Detroit: Become Human) &amp; Reader, Connor (Detroit: Become Human)/Reader, Hank Anderson &amp; Connor, Hank Anderson &amp; Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Emotional Machine [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1709356</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>100</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Imagine</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Final part! I had fun writing this but lost inspo in places so I am sorry! I plan to write more stuff and have ideas, so hope to update with more works soon x</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Maybe I do need to be taken back to Cyberlife …</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>The meeting room was filled with Fowler’s less than enthusiastic tone as the team had their morning debrief, an opportunity to discuss cases. Faces around the room looked exhausted, sleep deprived – others attentive, and focused. The room carried its usual smell of copier paper and burnt coffee granules – as the first case was discussed.</p><p> </p><p>However Connor felt unable to pay any real attention to the conversations going on just in front of him, once again  he found himself plagued with the same littering of software instabilities and error codes, so much so he’d just stopped trying to pay them so much attention now.</p><p> </p><p>He watched you, leaning on the boardroom style table, tapping a pen absently against the wood top- and every time he dared to glance, a certain feeling grabbed at him – there was an influx in all sorts of warnings and error messages.</p><p> </p><p>The android detective assumed he must have been broken.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Maybe it would be best if they took me apart.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>Connor’s dark eyed gaze dipped for a moment as he mulled quietly over this more than tricky situation.</p><p> </p><p>It had been weeks now since his chat with Hank about ‘feelings’. Not once had Connor approached you about them – the thing was, he was too caught up in this sticky web. Scared of the way he was trapped between a rock and a hard place.</p><p> </p><p>This deviancy investigation meant <em>so</em> much to him. He wanted to prove to Amanda, Cyberlife – <em>everyone </em>– that he could do this.</p><p> </p><p>Yet since he was having these heavy feelings about you, he felt distracted from all that – and incredibly boxed in by the frustrating fact he felt he could not say a word to you about them – in case it jeopardised everything.</p><p> </p><p>Maybe he didn’t fully realise, but he was burning himself out. And the frustration never eased, no matter how much he tried to ignore it – it never went away. It was like an ugly mark on a fancy dress, staring him out endlessly – the error codes just a constant reminder that he couldn’t escape this by hoping to glide away on the wings of silence.</p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>A few days later </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>Another hopelessly boring night shift saw yourself and Connor parked up in a lay-by by the gas station. For once, you’d refrained from getting yourself fast food and instead opted for a coffee – feeling that was generally much healthier for you and would help keep you awake during the deadly hours of the morning.</p><p> </p><p>It was around 2am, and there was a comfortable – yet strange silence in the car. Glancing to your right, something didn’t quite feel right about Connor. And this wasn’t a recent thing either. You’d noticed it steadily over the past few weeks. Sure, he was an android but that didn’t excuse the fact he seemed a shell of his former self. The only way you could put it was that he … appeared low?</p><p> </p><p>Depressed?</p><p> </p><p>You had argued with yourself many a night as you lay in bed, wondering if androids could feel things like that. You had always assumed they couldn’t, from what Cyberlife retailed them as but… the rising number of deviant cases seemed to contradict that on a large scale.</p><p> </p><p>But Connor was no Deviant. He was your partner, a trusted colleague and a fantastic detective working to resolve the deviancy issue.</p><p> </p><p>He surely could never be a part of it?</p><p> </p><p>You snapped out of your thoughts and tried to strike up a conversation to gage whether what you were thinking was logical, or whether it was all overthinking.</p><p> </p><p>“You know Lisa? On the reception?” You asked out loud, looking ahead of yourself. It took a few moments for Connor to respond.</p><p> </p><p>“The administrator. Yes.” Connor replied in his usual astute tone, looking across at you. “What about her?”</p><p> </p><p>Well there was a lot about her – she was the only human working among the android administrators in that desk – she was a party animal and a bit of a nut case. But a funny person none the less. You could write a book on what there was ‘about’ Lisa. You’d save it for another time-</p><p> </p><p>“It’s her 26<sup>th</sup> birthday party on Friday night.” You informed, taking a slow and savouring sip of the coffee clutched in your grasp. “We’re all going for some drinks after work.” You added, looking across and smiling softly at Connor. The way his eyes settled on you had your heart clenching a little too tightly in your chest.</p><p> </p><p>“Will you be coming?” You asked him, hoping he’d say yes. Sure, he couldn’t exactly eat or drink anything but you enjoyed Connor’s company. And if he had been feeling … not right then, perhaps coming out and socialising would make him feel better.</p><p> </p><p>Connor’s gaze melted into the kind look in your own (eye colour) eyes, feeling as if he had just been pushed into an abyss that he was falling in – yet let himself do so with unabashed regard. He stayed there, just relishing that sweet look on your expression whilst the various instabilities cascaded through his system like summer rain.</p><p> </p><p>When Connor didn’t answer, and just sat staring at you, your first assumption was that he didn’t want to come and wasn’t sure how to say no in his usual polite way.</p><p> </p><p>“You… you don’t have to go if you don’t want to.” You said in hopes of reassuring him if he was conflicted. “But…” your fingers subconsciously dug tighter into the sides of the coffee cup ever so slightly.</p><p> </p><p>“I’d like you to know… I would love to see you there.” Your voice sounded childlike and timid compared to its usual confident clarity, and suddenly you felt a wave of nervousness wash over you. Why did this feel like asking your goddamn crush to the senior prom!?</p><p> </p><p>Another bout of silence crept through the interior of the car. His mind feeling almost clouded, Connor processed your words and once again – mixture of all sorts of emotions bubbled inside of him. He could not understand it – he’d interrogated some hellishly stubborn criminals over the course of his time at the DPD – and been as articulate as a poet with his words, faced with the challenging situations.. However, right now it seemed as if English wasn’t even in his program – he didn’t know what to say, his head in a flurry just as much as his feelings were.</p><p> </p><p>The silence was long enough that you assumed he did not want to come. The fact he couldn’t say no put a sour take on your presently placid mood.</p><p> </p><p>“I understand, it’s fine.” You answered in a tone that would indicate it was anything but. “It’s not like it would have meant anything to me if you came.” Your bitter tones added, contradicting the words you’d said. Of course it would have meant the world to you for him to come and enjoy some time with you outside of work.</p><p> </p><p>He was still basically mute, staring with an alien determination at the dashboard of your car – his eyes flickering downwards in an irritated motion. Irritated with himself.</p><p> </p><p>“(Name), it’s not that I don’t wish to attend.” He started, finally feeling as if he’d been freed from a chokehold when the clarity of words came to him. Connor sensed your gaze set onto him the moment the words left his lips.</p><p> </p><p>“I… I’m… things just aren’t quite right.. for me at that moment.” He fumbled, he hadn’t pictured getting this close to a confession of feelings. He felt an uneasiness – part of him so wanted to let you know but another part so fiercely fought to keep his sights on the mission at hand and nothing else. At this point it was like he was operating two different androids in one system – confusing and extremely frustrating alike.</p><p> </p><p>“Then why don’t you talk to me?” You asked, concern filling your tone as you set the half drunk coffee cup into the holder at the centre console. “I hope you would know I am always here to listen, Connor.” You explained with a kind and considerate tone, an earnest look in your (eye colour) eyes.</p><p> </p><p>Your hand had fallen to rest on his arm, a gesture he did not notice at first for being snared in your gaze. When Connor’s attention eventually broadened it’s span, his realisation of the motion had him falling victim to another onslaught of instabilities. Warm, brown eyes centred into your gaze, doe eyed and beautiful – even in the low light of the car.</p><p> </p><p>Another silence settled – and your heart was admittedly tense as it raced, akin to your mind. His silence did nothing to settle you – it hurt for a brief moment as you pondered over the fact maybe he didn’t want to open up to you? Maybe he hadn’t felt as close to you as you did to him. Emotional reactions that had been buried deep and pushed down over a number of weeks for numerous matters felt dangerous close to bubbling over the surface.</p><p> </p><p>Outside of your thoughts, the radio had been playing quietly in the background as you had been worried recently that your playlist was boring Connor. The quiet waves of music that played eventually caught your attention once your brain realised what they were. It drew you out of your silence with Connor, and betrayed you of the lid you had been trying to keep on wobbling emotions – you reached your limit and had finally overspilled.</p><p> </p><p>Studying your body language, the softening of your eyes and the suddenly well of tears at the brim of your eyes – Connor sensed a change in you and was somewhat grateful the focus was shifted from him.</p><p> </p><p>“Is everything alright, (name)?” He asked, his pleasant tones roused you from your stare for a brief moment.</p><p> </p><p>“This song on the radio,” you smiled with tears in your eyes that threatened to spill down your cheeks, “it was my parent’s first dance song at their wedding.”</p><p> </p><p>Your lungs inhaled a hefty breath before you choked on a small sob, wiping your eyes quickly.</p><p> </p><p>“Sorry – I don’t know what’s come over me lately.” You apologised, embarrassed by the fact you’d crumbled in front of him.</p><p> </p><p>You felt ridiculous getting emotional as you listened to the song you loved so dearly. You hadn’t heard it in so long – years even. It was more than your parents first dance song, it was one of your mom’s personal favourites and you always remember her singing it wherever she went. In your brain, it was cemented as her song.</p><p> </p><p>Seeing the tears trickle down your cheeks, Connor looked to gain some more insight without plaguing you with questions. He analysed the waveforms coming from the ‘classic’ radio station.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Song: Imagine</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Artist: Ariana Grande</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Release Date: 14<sup>th</sup> December, 2018</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>Connor sat leaned back in the seat, watching you from the corner of his eyes so you didn’t feel you were being stared at whilst in such an emotional state.</p><p> </p><p>Despite the gentle flow of tears, a soft smile captured your face at the memory of your mother. You missed her so much, every single day – and often moments like this brought back the pain of losing her.</p><p> </p><p>You wiped some of the tears away with the back of your hand, your right arm falling to the arm rest between the driver and passenger seat. There was silence in the car besides the radio, which you had turned up louder since hearing the song.</p><p> </p><p>Connor’s hickory eyes looked down as he saw your hand rested there, so close and so tempting to just take hold and offer you some comfort.</p><p> </p><p>A battle started – systems bickered and flashed at him – like a yapping dog constantly barking for attention. Constant, unrelenting reminders of the impending fall of the machine he was supposed to be.</p><p> </p><p>He squeezed his eyes shut for just a second, hoping to block out the chaotic system rioting on for just one moment.</p><p> </p><p>Your wobbling and wavering voice hummed quietly along to the lyrics, in your own little world where you were safe to reimagine all of those sweet moments from your childhood. Everything that was lost, reignited for a perfect few moments.</p><p> </p><p>The feeling of warmth on your hand disrupted you, tugging you out of the dreamlike state as your (eye colour) gaze looked down first of all – seeing Connor’s hand just covering your own. Trailing your sight upwards, you looked upon his kind features – expelling every emotive expression of someone who cared, someone who wanted to be there for you.</p><p> </p><p>Your heart melted, you could almost imagine it pooling into a wax-like goop in your chest. There were no words really necessary. You merely took his hand properly, and gave it a gentle squeeze.</p><p> </p><p>That simple gesture and the gracious smile on your face alone spelled a million heartfelt ‘thank yous’ that your brain could never hope to conjure up at that moment.</p><p> </p><p>And as the song began to fade out, the tears still salty at your eye-line – you allowed your fingers to entwine with his. The violins played boldly as the song met its closure, and for a moment or two you closed your eyes and mentally went over this – all of it.</p><p> </p><p>Of course you had been admittedly embarrassed to fall apart like that in front of Connor, you just couldn’t help your emotional side sometimes. It wasn’t easy to play the cocky, confident type all the time when there were moments you felt you could just breakdown into tears.</p><p> </p><p>And then you thought of Connor. Your heart ached tenderly as your realised this was far more than just a friendship to you – the way he made you feel as offered to take your hand for comfort just consolidated feelings that had been ruminating in your head over the past number of weeks.</p><p> </p><p>You just hoped maybe there may have been an inkling he felt the same?</p><p> </p><p>The way his hand closed around yours, and the way he didn’t budge as your fingers laced together was a hopeful enough sign that you might have been in with a chance.</p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>The few days following that almost lucid feeling experience on the night shift were followed with internalised turbulence from both yourself and Connor. You both pressed on as you usually did with work and such, but it was no secret that in the back of both of your minds you were acutely aware that what had happened had cemented things into place – emotions wise.</p><p> </p><p>As the Friday night rolled around, you left work without managing to catch Connor all day – he’d been out with Hank for the entire of his shift and it left you feeling a little disheartened that you hadn’t managed to speak to him. You hoped he would decide to come out for drinks, you wanted to see him there – in a setting that wasn’t in an office with asshole Gavin and racing around chasing on call tasks in the dead of night.</p><p> </p><p>Getting yourself home to the eerily dark apartment you lived in, you first made sure your pet cat Toby was fed, the little grey tabby greeting with small chirping meows.</p><p> </p><p>You then focused on yourself – deciding cereal would do for a quick dinner as the monumental task of  doing up your appearance ahead of the night out was all too time consuming to even think about making a proper meal..</p><p> </p><p>Your overhaul of your appearance started with makeup – a soft look that wasn’t too overly drastic in contrast to your everyday makeup. In terms of clothing, you opted for a satin shirt dress, black in colour – with a belt and a pair of over the knee boots.  As you got ready and packed the essentials in your clutch bag – (lipstick, perfume, credit card and ID) – your thoughts never once relented in badgering you about the fact deep down, you hoped Connor would be there so he could see you like this. In something other than a pair of jeans, basic top and a coat.</p><p> </p><p>“Grow up.” You scolded yourself aloud as you finished arranging a taxi for yourself and clicked the apartment light off, shutting the door and locking it securely behind yourself.</p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>It was a bitterly cold night, you had watched the light drizzle of rain trickling down the cab windows on the way to the cocktail bar, trying to distract yourself from your own feelings and ruminating thoughts.</p><p> </p><p>Around 10 minutes after leaving your house, the cab arrived curb side, right in front of the bar. As your backside left the seat, you took a deep breath in and tried to collect yourself – cool your running thoughts to a slow and put on the brave face you had been trying to perfect all these years.</p><p> </p><p>Throwing your clutch bag strap over your shoulder, your heels clicked loudly against the ambience of a rainy and cold night in Detroit – the gentle whoosh of distant traffic in your ears. It was soon dominated by the booming baseline of music coming from the bar. The moment your hands fell upon the door handle, it was like opening up the cage door of an angry lion. The volume of the music practically slapped you in the face, but your body was grateful for the warmth in your less than appropriate clothing choice considering the weather conditions.</p><p> </p><p>One thing you hated for sure was turning up to these things alone – you detested that lonely, abyss like feeling when you walked into a bustling bar, frantically searching for a friendly face.</p><p> </p><p>“(Name)!”</p><p> </p><p>Before you could even turn around, a pair of arms flung around you from behind. After about 2 seconds you could smell that overpowering scent of floral perfume and instantly recognised it was Lisa.</p><p> </p><p>“You came!” She soon added, allowing you time to actually turn around and get a look at her. By the hazy look in her eyes and the slight smear of her lipstick you gathered she was already tipsy – but there was no shock there. It didn’t take Lisa long to get through a few drinks.</p><p> </p><p>You smiled fondly at her words, wondering whether she was genuinely appreciative of your turning up or whether it was the alcohol.</p><p> </p><p>“I did!” You smiled, your red lips curving into a grin. Before you could say anymore, Lisa grabbed you by your wrist and dragged you in the direction of the bar where you could see some more familiar faces from the office, and felt immediately less anxious.</p><p> </p><p>“Come on, you look like you need a drink.” She said, leading you through a sea of people.</p><p> </p><p>“I sure do.” You responded quickly, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear and waving as you approached your colleagues.</p><p> </p><p>“Just as well, I think it’s Gavin’s turn to by a round.” Lisa then added, and that instantly put a genuine smirk on your face.</p><p> </p><p><em>‘Even better!’ </em>you thought to yourself, your friends and colleagues greeting you excitedly at the bar.</p><p> </p><p>So you soon settled in with them, allowing your worries and cares to wash away with each sip of your favourite cocktail as the night steadily progressed through its early hours.</p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>“Look, you made us late now, dipshit.” Hank cussed as he looked at the time, still partially seething at the battle he’d just had to have with Connor about why removing his jacket and tie for the evening might be a nice change to show people he worked with that he wasn’t all work.</p><p> </p><p>“Sorry Lieutenant.” Connor apologised with his usual wholesome tones, “I just don’t usually dress down to this level-“</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah well, considering you and (name) aren’t getting anywhere I thought I might try and push the boat out a little for you.” Hank said, a small smile on his face at the predicament of playing Cupid for his android colleague. “(Name) will notice you look different.” He explained to Connor as he looked across to the passenger side where the android detective was sat.</p><p> </p><p>“She’s probably going to look different too.” Hank then added, “she probably dressed up so… tell her she looks nice and don’t fuck it up.”</p><p> </p><p>Connor’s LED blinked yellow for a second – you? Dressed up? Even his mind was having a harm time trying to compute what sort of thing you may be wearing – you always seemed so brazen and confident at work that he could not imagine you in something most women wore to events like this one.</p><p> </p><p>Suddenly Connor felt overwhelmed by it all – he already felt a cascade of warming emotions for you and he was very <em>fearful</em> of how he would speak to you, especially if you looked even prettier than usual.</p><p> </p><p>As Hank’s beat up old car came to a halt in the car park by the bar, Connor found himself frowning in concern into his lap.</p><p> </p><p>“What’s wrong now?” Hank sighed, yanking the keys out of the ignition as he glanced across at poor Connor.</p><p> </p><p>“Lieutenant… I don’t think I can speak to her.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes you fucking can.” Hank started, getting out of the car with a vigour as he marched around to the passenger side and opened the door for his android colleague. “And you will.” He added sternly, watching as Connor rose from the seat with some reluctance.</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t worry about it too much. Let it come naturally.” Hank said to him as they wandered along the side walk, nearing the entrance of the club.</p><p> </p><p><em>Naturally?</em> Connor thought to himself – he hated situations he couldn’t compute and calculate in his head, with predetermined confirmed results. This was everything but that.  </p><p> </p><p>Hank led the way into the bar and as Connor tailed sheepishly behind, he became aware of a new feeling – very uncomfortable one, which showered him with copious error codes. He identified it as ‘anxiety’ – being nervous and feeling as if he wanted to run.</p><p> </p><p>It was that moment he truly was coming to terms with the fact he may well be a lost cause to the deviancy case after all. He was losing everything he was supposed to be in control of, losing sight of his aims – his goals. His programming.</p><p> </p><p>It was all being shredded out of his system like waste paper, and the feeling only thickened as his eyes fell onto you.</p><p> </p><p>The gorgeous girl perched on a bar stool, a smile that was giving of so much happiness.</p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>Two empty glasses that once contained Mojitos were left estranged around you at the bar, you were busy listening to one of Lisa’s crazy stories that always seemed so much funnier when you were slightly tipsy.</p><p> </p><p>You were not even aware of your partners who walked into the bar, until a lot of hollering from your colleagues around you caused you glance in the direction of their shouts.</p><p> </p><p>Hank was here, and you smiled at seeing him – not making much of an effort as he usually did.</p><p> </p><p>A feeling of deep surprise grabbed you as Hank stepped aside slightly and you saw Connor with him, at first you didn’t recognise him as he had forgone his RK800 Jacket and smart black tie. Your red lips curved into a secretive soft smile, you had some idea that Hank had probably attempted to dress him for the occasion.</p><p> </p><p>“Hank!” You called, as your friend joined you at the bar.</p><p> </p><p>“Evening kid,” he smiled fondly, “you look very fancy tonight.” He commented, his tone never softened to much but you guessed that was his attempt at a fatherly compliment. You smiled warmly to his words and tossed your (hair colour) hair over your shoulder.</p><p> </p><p>“Hi Connor.” You then said, feeling a little braver from your drinks as your (colour) eyes wandered expansively over his person, eventually meeting his gaze to find his deep brown eyes seemed to be scanning your like some kind of murder victim.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>The boots…</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Connor thought to himself, unable to take his eyes off them. There was a way the taupe suede hugged your legs and thighs that made him stare – not to mention the sheen of the black satin dress against your skin. The former errors he had processed came back to bite him once again, but this time with more ferocity and alarm. Right now he truly felt his systems were failing everything they needed to be doing but – being in your company like this far overruled that for him.</p><p> </p><p>“H-Hi.” He eventually managed to stammer in return, feeling as if he’d given his game away. If he could be blushing – he would’ve been – <em>profusely.</em></p><p> </p><p>“(Name) looks parched, Connor.” Hank started in an overly suggestive voice, “how about you buy her a drink?”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s fine, you don’t need to. I could probably use laying off the Mojitos for now-“ you tried to deter him, feeling bad but it appeared Connor’s one mission tonight was to make you feel as valued to him as he possibly could.</p><p> </p><p>“No.” He said quite assertively, but never the less politely. “The alcohol content in your blood is still moderately low. Allow me to get you something else.”</p><p> </p><p>You had to smile at that, he’d obviously obtained that information a moment ago after looking at you like some pin up girl.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay well, only if you’re sure.” You advised, reassured as Connor nodded his head. The pair of you didn’t notice Hank slip off to go and socialise with Officer Miller and Detective Collins – leaving both both some space and the opportunity to be alone.</p><p> </p><p>After spending two minutes weighing up your options on the cocktail board, you settled on something different for a change of scenery and ordered Sex on the Beach. As you ordered the cocktail you could see Connor’s LED whirring yellow and you had to hide your smirk, you could only imagine how hard he was fighting the urge to ask someone why it was called that.</p><p> </p><p>The drink arrived, a very colourful orange shade with a cute blue parasol. You made it your first mission to thank Connor before you took a sip, feeling like you needed more of the liquid courage – it was the only thing that hadn’t made you feel anxious about seeing Connor there tonight.</p><p> </p><p>“You look very…” you paused as you glanced over at Connor again, biting back a smirk. “… handsome.”</p><p> </p><p>The 4 cocktails were now helping coax the words out of your mouth that your brain did not fight to keep inside.</p><p> </p><p>Judging by the slightest raise of his brows, it appeared Connor was surprised by the directness of your comment.</p><p> </p><p>“Thank you, Detective.” He responded, “you also look… very pretty.”</p><p> </p><p>Why did it sound so adorable coming from him? If any other guy usually called you pretty you felt the urge to want to throw your drink over him, considering most of them were so slimy but – not Connor. He was all softness and sunshine to you so, hearing that come from him meant more than he would ever know.</p><p> </p><p>Silence fell over the pair of you for a moment, as you leaned on the bar slightly – acutely the aware of the fact that as he stood beside your bar stool, he was still easily a few inches taller. Emotions that usually had you het up in frustration now bubbled fondly in your stomach. You wanted closeness, contact – really, to just throw your arms around him. You were fighting the urge more as the night went on and you finished your cocktail and a few other glasses of wine.</p><p> </p><p>The concoction of the alcohol had you and the other girls dancing at midnight, singing along to songs from your childhoods at the top of your lungs. It was highly amusing and admittedly incredibly embarrassing for anyone else who was watching – be that sober or not.</p><p> </p><p>You had been happier than ever for those last few hours, maybe the alcohol had helped you accept that fighting your feelings for Connor were getting you nowhere, only succeeding in driving you crazy with frustration.</p><p> </p><p>One of your favourite songs finished, a quick glance at your phone revealed it was nearly 1.30am. Your feet admittedly stumbled from the dance floor and over to where Connor had been stood, quietly watching you. As you wobbled over like a lamb, he scanned your vitals – heart rate was slightly increased from the dancing, your reaction times were increasingly slowed and the alcohol content in your blood was at a high level. His natural concern for your welfare instilled itself first.</p><p> </p><p>“How are you planning on getting yourself home tonight, (name)?” Connor shouted into your ear over the music as he held you by the shoulders to keep you upright. You had barely even noticed at first that you’d practically stumbled into his arms, but now your senses tuned in and you felt his touch on your skin there was an immediate rush. It took you a few moments to respond, and by this time, Hank had drifted over after seeing the trashed look on your face.</p><p> </p><p>“I was just gonna get a taxi or whatever.” You slurred, and after hearing that Hank shook his head firmly and looked at Connor.</p><p> </p><p>“No way.” He said to his android colleague, “I don’t want her going off on her own in that state. She can crash at my place tonight.” Hank instructed. He had done quite well for most of the night, only having a couple of drinks and not ending up getting shitfaced, like yourself. He was still in no state to drive his car though, so it looked like that would be falling to Connor.</p><p> </p><p>Stumbling out of the club, you hung off Connor and Hank like a baby monkey as they walked you slowly to the car.</p><p> </p><p>“I love you both a lot.” You cried out, the two detectives giving each other a look.</p><p> </p><p>“We love y’ too, honey.” Hank replied in a kind tone but all the same nonchalant tone, as he knew by well you got soppy when you were drunk. He then tried to guide you into the passenger seat of the car, which you practically fell into. “I’ll get in the back.” He then offered, leaving Connor in charge of getting everyone home for the evening.</p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>You didn’t remember getting into the car or any of the journey to Hank’s house, but you did drift in and out of consciousness – recalling Connor carrying you up the steps to Hank’s front door – the cold chill of the night rousing your from your sleep briefly before the heavy feeling of alcohol put you into sleep once more.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll get her a blanket.” Hank sighed, but despite that Connor could detect the fondness in his voice. Hank rarely got close to anyone but everyone really knew that he regarded you like a daughter.</p><p> </p><p>Connor set you down gently on the sofa, looking endearingly into your features – even with slightly smeared lipstick and messy hair he still regarded you as the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.</p><p> </p><p>Just as Hank returned with a blanket to cover you up, Sumo decided to join you on the couch for a snuggle. The weight of the St Bernard squashing onto the sofa caused you to groan, but never the less you rather haphazardly threw your arms around the dog. Eyes still closed, you buried your face into his neck.</p><p> </p><p>“Sumo Wumo.”you babbled. Connor sat on the edge of the sofa, looking at Hank almost puzzled, worried if there was anything else he needed to do.</p><p> </p><p>“Night, (name).” Hank called as he headed off up the corridor to his room. It went without saying that of course, Connor was welcome to stop too.</p><p> </p><p>Through the quiet ambience of the house, Hank’s bedroom door clicked shut and Connor found himself perching timidly on the edge of the couch with you and the big fluffy mass that was Sumo. You were quiet for a few moments, eyes closed as if you were resting. It did ultimately surprise Connor as you pulled yourself up onto your elbows and opened your eyes, smiling at him fondly.</p><p> </p><p>“Thank you Connor.” You mumbled, rubbing your eyes slightly – smearing them with makeup in the process. Leaning forwards, you ended up resting your head against his shoulder, a sense of girlish happiness consuming you again – the butterflies coming back in full force.</p><p> </p><p>“I know I’ve been pretty shit with words recently but… everything you do for me has meant so much to me…” you faltered a little, your face feeling hot as you gazed at the floor for a minute.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s took me some time to realise but, this is more than a friendship to me.” You took a deep breath in.</p><p> </p><p>“I want you to know that… I really like you.” You whispered, reaching down to find his hand – lacing your fingers together much the same as what happened the other day.</p><p> </p><p>Connor was absorbed in that beautiful silence – it all but confirmed his wants and desires now – and that was far from achieving his previously set mission. Now all he cared about were the people he’d met along the way - with you at the forefront of that.</p><p> </p><p>His LED flashed yellow in the dark, tilting his neck slightly to rest his cheek on-top of your head. He gently squeezed your hand, relishing the warmth and softness of your hands in his own.</p><p> </p><p>“I very much like you too.” Connor responded in the darkness, words not feeling enough to amount to the emotions he felt. There was a feeling of a great weight being lifted from his shoulders at verbalising something that had been wracking him for so long.</p><p> </p><p>It was safe to say he felt nothing but contentment that night as you fell asleep on the chair, sandwiched between Sumo and Connor who had not really been given a choice – your arms fling around his midsection tightly and your head on his chest, the sound of his thirium pump beating steadily sending you off to sleep in the first place.</p><p> </p><p>No, Connor didn’t mind at all. He only felt contentment for the first time that he truly felt he had found a place in this confusing world, and was blessed enough to be around someone who cared for him as much as he did for them.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  
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